


all's fair in love and sales

by dollarforyourinsides



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Board Games, Dialogue Heavy, Drunken Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Group chat, Let's do this!, M/M, Medium Burn, Mutual Pining, My First AO3 Post, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Road Trips, Swearing, Tags Are Hard, Wish me luck, if that makes sense, it's sort of an office crossover, there will be references but they don't have corresponding characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollarforyourinsides/pseuds/dollarforyourinsides
Summary: Keith is a brooding salesman persuaded into working at Altea Enterprises by his adoptive brother, Shiro. Before long, his coworker Lance drags him out of his shell and into game nights with Hunk and Pidge, planning office parties for holidays that don't exist, and a cliché love story. What follows are miscellaneous tales of friendship, dumb jokes, and romance in this mess of a workplace.





	1. of sales calls and backstories

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing I've written that I'm posting anywhere! i love the office and voltron so i thought "fuck it, let's combine them"
> 
> this wasn't beta'd so feel free to slap me for any mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altea's salesmen Keith and Lance go on a sales call, reuniting Team Purple. The rest of the office is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wish me luck
> 
> [edited july 29, 2018]

“Fuck,” Keith muttered, pulling into the office parking lot, only to realize he had forgotten his reading glasses (not to mention he was a little late) when he had left twenty minutes earlier. It wasn’t an angry “fuck,” per se, more of a I’m-very-tired-and-frustrated “fuck.”

Keith leaned back in his seat (as well as he could on a motorcycle, anyway), already resigning himself to the positively dreadful fact that he’d be nearly blind for the next eight hours. He sighed, remembering that today was set aside for sales reports, a.k.a. an abundance of reading and filling out forms, all in an 11-pt font.

Fuck, indeed.

As difficult as finally removing his helmet, fixing his hair the best he could, and entering the unassuming office building was, Keith managed it. He flashed the security guard, Sendak (a known douchebag), his clearance pass, and now stood on the elevator, yawning. He made an effort to avoid the mysterious stain in the corner, its origins supposedly preceding Altea’s residency in the building. At the very least, Keith sure as hell hoped so.

Now, don’t take any of this the wrong way; Keith loved his job at Altea Enterprises, he was just in a bit of a slump. His most important client, and by most important he means twenty percent of his commission, left Altea for Galra Industries yesterday, and they weren’t the first. Galra Industries had already presented a threat when Keith became a salesman at Altea Enterprises four years ago, but only recently had Altea begun suffering for it. Nearly a twentieth of their clients had transferred to the rival company, and while this may not sound too terrible, their numbers proved otherwise.

The elevator soon dinged, signifying Keith’s stop, the fourteenth floor. He smiled a bit at the sound, because as cheesy as it may sound, his coworkers had become a sort of family for him.  
There’s Hunk, the receptionist, who was phenomenal at his job. Everyone loves him, and he’s the perfect friendly face to see when you first enter the office. He’s a stellar chef and cares immensely about all of his coworkers. He has, on occasion, been known to fight for his friends, typically against Galra employees.

A bright, short girl named Pidge works accounting (singlehandedly, he might add). She’s brilliant with numbers and computers, and could probably hack into Keith’s bank account before he could even type his PIN number. He'd never met someone with more fire, except, maybe, himself.

Shiro is the branch manager, a confident supervisor as well as Keith’s adoptive older brother. Shiro knows him better than anyone, and though he’s a veteran with his own problems, he always finds time to help anyone who needed it. Everyone, including Allura (his superior), in the office, looks up to him.

The president of Altea Enterprises is a tall, intelligent woman named Allura, who intimidates everyone in the office to some degree. She inherited the company when her father passed away, and fearlessly took charge to protect his legacy. Keith heard that Allura gave up her dreams of becoming a veterinarian to save Altea. She'd earned every bit of respect she had gained from her employees.

And, of course, there’s Lance. Lance works in sales with Keith, and always manages to both piss him off and make him laugh, occasionally at the same time. Everything's a competition between them, but after Keith’s first year, it’s more friendly than anything. It had taken years and several talks with Shiro for Keith to realize that he has a crush on Lance, which brings them to where they are today: Hunk’s amiable “Good morning!”; Pidge’s grumble about lack of caffeine; Shiro’s wave from behind his office’s windows; and Lance’s, “Aww, looks like Keithy here forgot his glasses again.”

“Fuck off, Lance," Keith replied, secretly happy that he'd noticed his plight.

Lance gasped and held a hand to his heart, “I’m shocked, Keith! To think I considered you a friend just a mere moment before you opened your mouth.”

Keith rolled his eyes and shrugged off his black “emo teen” jacket, pointedly not looking at Lance, which was extraordinarily challenging, considering that a) Lance sat across from him in their desk clump, and b) Keith found him insanely attractive. 

Though Keith had lived in denial of both statements for years, he had grown to accept them and had grown to really enjoy spending time with Lance. He was the one who really managed to get him out of his shell when Keith started working here, despite their first interaction being a shouting match about mug etiquette in the office’s tiny kitchen. Now, Lance was a staple in Keith’s life both at Altea Enterprises and away, and now a mutual respect and gratifying friendship was in place.

Only then did Allura make an appearance, storming through the door that led to the break room, kitchen, and annex (where Shay and Coran work in customer service and human resources, respectively). Keith assumed she had been talking to the latter, as the office knew that Coran had become a sort of father-figure for her. Backstory aside, holy shit, did she look furious. Even Shiro let his calls go to voicemail to tune in.

“Listen up bitches, we’ve lost another two clients to the Galra,” Allura started. “Things are looking pretty damn bad, and we really need to either win back the clients we lost-”

“Unlikely,” Lance muttered under his breath.

“-Or,” Allura continued, “we can pitch to new clients. And by we, I mean sales,” she concluded.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea, Allura? Cold calls suck ass, and after Nyma and Rolo left, there are only two people in sales,” Keith said.

“And one of them is Keith, god knows how he even managed to make one sale with his edgy attitude,” Lance added. As cruel as that may sound to anyone else, Keith knew that he was joking.

“Thank you, Lance,” Allura said, “but I’m positive that as a team, you will be able to woo some customers.”

“As a team?” Lance asked.

“You mean-” Keith began.

“You’re reviving Team Purple!” Lance shouted earnestly, and quite honestly, Keith had never heard him so excited about anything. It looked good on him. Keith thought back to a couple years ago when Team Purple was created. One fateful day three years ago, Shiro had assigned Keith and Lance to a sales call together. Naturally, back then, they’d been sworn “rivals,” according to Lance, and could barely hold a conversation without it dissolving into an argument.

As for the call, they’d been pitching to a small business- Keith couldn’t remember the name of it for the life of him- run by a woman named Plaxum, and, as he does, Lance began flirting with her, while Keith talked numbers. This crackpot strategy worked very well, and the closing of the sale marked the first time that Keith and Lance air-fived, and what Keith considered to be the real beginning of their friendship. With this, “Team Purple” was born, and in a bizarre display of shitty biology, the parents were Lance’s blue shirt, Keith’s red tie, and some basic color theory.  
After that sale, Shiro sent them on several more calls together, each more successful than the last. This went on for months, and both Lance and Keith loved it, but eventually, Altea ran out of morally acceptable leads, and Team Purple was no longer needed. It had laid dormant for years, solo sales dominating, until this rainy March morning. Keith treasured his memories associated with Team Purple, quite possibly more than any others from his time at Altea.

Of course, Keith didn’t say any of this, rather, he sighed and said, “I never agreed to that name.”

Lance was about to retort, something clever, Keith’s sure, but Shiro interrupted.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, Allura.” She smiled graciously in response before turning back to their desk clump. 

“Alright, you two, I want you to go on a call this afternoon.”

Lance was doubtful. “No offense, Allura, but how the hell are we supposed to find a potential client in,” he checks his watch, “four hours?”

Allura pondered this, but Shiro stepped in. “I’m confident you will be able to figure it out.” He mocked-cheered, “Go Team Purple, am I right guys?”

“Ew, Shiro, stop trying to be young,” Pidge said. “It doesn’t work for you.”

The sound of what could only be consensus swept through the room, and Shiro made a strangled noise before giving in to the rejection.

It was only now that Keith gave his input again, offering a solution to the so-called “lack-of-a-potential-client” dilemma, reaching down and opening the bottom drawer of his desk, one that required a key. He pulled out a small index card box and said, “I found our new clients.”

“Woah, Keith, are you sure you want to?” Lance sounded concerned. “I know they’re yours, and I know you planned to wait, and I definitely don’t want to take this away from you.”

“Ok, why the fuck does it lowkey sound like you’re talking about Keith’s virginity?” Pidge interjected, smirking. At this, Keith felt his face heat up and died internally, while Lance paled. Keith felt the urge to resuscitate their case.

“They’re leads, Pidge,” Keith stressed.

Up until this point, Hunk hadn’t spoken, usually not concerning himself with sales issues, but now he chimed in, “Are you sure you can use those? Didn’t Keith get them from Arus when he left? And when I said ‘get,’ I meant ‘steal.’” Evidently, Hunk was concerned with the underlying moral issues.

Pidge, ever-so-unconcerned with the legality of things, said, “Don’t question it, Hunk. You’re too pure for this office.”

Everyone agreed, and Hunk blushed and returned to making faxes.

“So it’s settled,” Allura announced, “Lance and Keith-”

“You mean Team Purple,” Lance interjected.

“Yes, our very own Team Purple will go on a sales call this afternoon to a client found through Keith’s stolen leads.”

Nearly ten minutes after it had begun, everyone unanimously decided that the impromptu meeting had ended. Pidge seemingly vanished, Shiro retreated back into his office, Allura not far behind him. Lance glanced at him one last time before returning to work, dialing a number before holding the receiver with his shoulder as he shuffled through papers and statements. Keith was very aware of Lance’s actions, and he knew he was, and he knew he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care before returning to his own work.

Hours passed, and soon Lance barged through the door, loud as always, hauling a large brown paper bag filled with what Keith presumed to be paninis and muffins, which is what Lance usually picked up for the two of them. Keith hadn’t even seen him get up, let alone leave and go to a café. Lance silently gestured towards the break room and began walking there, and Keith soon moved to join him.

Lunch passed all too quickly, with witty jokes, dumb puns, and affable fights about pineapple on pizza (Keith approves, Lance does not) and the presence of ghosts in the modern world (Keith believes, Lance does not). They decided to pursue a lead involving a company called “The Puig Association,” a horrid name in Keith and Lance’s shared opinion.

The duo soon returned to work, making calls and filling out forms, but soon enough, Shiro and Allura made an appearance outside of the conference room, having been meeting about the Galra’s interference with Altea Enterprises (of course, Keith didn’t know this at the time. No one did). It was at this moment that Keith remembered the task that he’d been dreading this morning- sales reports. Feeling like the kid in class that reminded the teacher that they had homework, Keith pointed this out.

Shiro and Allura shared a look before the former said, “I think those can wait.”

Keith let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and shot Lance an air-five, which was enthusiastically returned.

Pidge seemed equally relieved, strangely shouting, “Alright, my squad, my pals, are you fucking ready? Today is a day for the history books of this company. For today, Team Purple has been resurrected!” she gestured toward Keith and Lance’s desk clump, “These two idiots are going to double-handedly save this company from the Galra!”

Lance and Hunk happily replied, "Yeah!" matching her volume, without questioning the apparent presence of history books about Altea Enterprises. Keith was doubtful; he knew Pidge had access to all of the company’s numbers, she would know if they were truly threatened. Based on what he’d heard, Keith assumed that if this trend of losing clients persisted, they would be in real trouble. He sighed as he realized just how critical this sales call was. He’d have to pull out all the stops: smiling, nodding, and making some small talk.

Keith moved to get himself a much-needed dose of caffeine, but as he passed Lance, the son of a bitch grabbed him by the wrist, effectively yanking him backward and throwing him off-balance. Keith’s instincts told him to fight back, but it was Lance, and Lance had a different kind of hold on him.

“Hey, Keith,” he began.

Keith sighed and already continued walking, quoting over his shoulder, “‘One hot chocolate with all the whipped cream your dumbass can find, and chocolate syrup if Pidge didn’t drink the rest.’” Keith had had Lance’s drink preference memorized for quite a while now and really didn’t mind getting it for him. After all, Lance did pick up lunch for the both of them on occasion (once a week), and he’d be damned if Keith didn’t appreciate it.

When Keith returned from the kitchen, he could already see Pidge passed out in her chair, a neat pile of forms filled out completely and, knowing Pidge, accurately, next to her. He groaned and passed Lance his hot chocolate. 

Lance thanked him and raised an eyebrow. “Are you ready to go?”

Keith remembered the sales call and replied, “As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you driving?”

“Well, I am most definitely not riding a motorcycle today, so...” Lance grabbed his keys, tossed them, and caught them, all in about a second or two. He pulled on his navy coat, and sarcastically held Keith’s jacket out to him. Keith softly smiled and accepted, and the team boarded the elevator and made their way towards Lance’s car. 

Keith stopped short. “Did you get a new car?”

“Yeah. A pretty long time ago, actually. Her name’s Blue.”

“Blue? That’s a pretty shitty name for a car. Hell, who even names their car?”

“People with respect for the art of driving, that’s who.”

“Please. Like 20% of the population can drive, and even fewer have named cars.”

“I don’t need your sass, Kogane.”

“As if you aren't a total diva sometimes.”

They bantered back and forth for the entire forty-minute drive to the Puig office building, and Keith had forgotten that they were out for work, rather than hanging out as friends, which they had done quite a few times over the years, though they were always with at least Hunk and Pidge.

Once they arrived at reception in this foreign office, Lance handled the conversation while Keith stood behind him, awkwardly shuffling in place. They sat and waited after they got clearance from reception, and were soon beckoned in to meet with the manager.

Lance always knew exactly what to say, and Keith admired him for it. He watched Lance drink in the photos on the office's dull walls before asking about the people in them, he noted the awards on the walls and bestowed compliments appropriately, and stumbled through a conversation about local farmers’ role in the community just because the guy seemed passionate about it. 

When it was time to talk plans, numbers, and contracts, Keith took over. In this particular case, it wasn’t difficult to convince the manager, Mr. Ayres, Keith’s subconscious provided, to make the switch. Of course, Keith had known that Mr. Ayres had been unsatisfied with his current plan for years now, due to his time working at Arus. After a final handshake and a couple of signatures, the sale was complete, and a large one at that.

Keith and Lance air-fived after climbing into Blue. It went unsaid that they would split the commission, and the radio blared shitty pop music the whole drive back. And if Keith sang along to Britney Spears's Greatest Hits: My Prerogative, then no one would have to know. And if he’d secretly never been happier in years, then no one would have to know. And if it was moments like these that got him out of bed in the morning, no one would have to know.

After all, this was why Keith loved Mondays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love keith with glasses, okay?


	2. of monopoly and trivial pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group attends a celebratory game night at Lance and Hunk's place. Keith and Lance team up for a series of games selected by Pidge. They win nothing, but Keith is happy anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit she lives
> 
> [edited july 29, 2018]

“Heyyy,” Lance rushed through the door, leaving it to nearly slam into the wall (again) before Keith managed to catch it. The duo had made it back to the office after their successful sales call and were ready to report to Shiro and Allura.

Their entry went relatively unacknowledged by the rest of the group, and Keith and Lance made their way back to the “offices of the higher-ups,” as Pidge so affectionately called them. Shiro and Allura appeared to be conferencing, so they decided to play Who’s Most Likely To.

“You’re way too impulsive to plan a wedding,” Lance decided.

“As if you aren’t,” Keith argued.

“Hey, at least I have a romantic bone in my body.”

“Fine. You’d have a romantic Vegas wedding then.”

“I could live with that,” Lance conceded. “But, yeah, you’d definitely get married on a whim.”

“Whatever you say, hotshot.”

Sometime during this exchange, Shiro and Allura had arrived, looking as strong and professional as ever. They looked at the two sitting on the floor, Allura’s eyebrows raised. Lance promptly brightened and shared the news, and handed her the signed contract.

“So, boys, how do you feel knowing that you’ve made a morally questionable sale?” Shiro asked.

Keith responded, “Fucking fantastic.”

Shiro watched as Keith and Lance grinned at each other and sighed. He should’ve known that they were determined enough not to care.

Allura, on the other hand, was extremely enthusiastic about the sale. She skimmed over the contract, and her eyes widened upon seeing just what Ayres had agreed to.

“This is our best sale in years! What the hell did you guys say?”

Keith snorted. “Lance talked about corn a lot and I was so detailed with the number talk that I think he just gave up.”

“Keith, you flatter me,” Lance said. “I just told him what he wanted to hear.”

“Well, whatever happened, it worked. I think the rest of the office deserves some good news,” Shiro said.

Allura appeared to wholeheartedly agree with this idea, seeing as she instantaneously leaped up and ran out of the room. Keith winced and looked at Lance, who smiled, and Keith found himself smiling, too. They followed Allura out into the main room, only to see that she had already gathered Pidge and Hunk into and group hug, and was showing them the contract.

“God,” Keith muttered. “If I had known the company was this fucked I would’ve tried harder.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” Lance replied, and Keith started, not knowing that Lance had heard. “Come on, mullet. Let’s join the party.”

Keith blushed at the nickname. “It’s not a mullet, and you know that.”

“Whatever,” Lance sighed, grabbing Keith’s wrist and pulling him toward the masses.

The six of them were squished together in the small space by reception, all grinning. Pidge was the first to wiggle her way out. Keith envied her.

“Now we all know we’re basically screwed, correct?” she asked, her coworkers around her nodding. “But this sale, and I know my facts, may be the start of the revolution that Altea needs, and we have our very own Lance and Keith to thank for that. Guys, any words?” 

“Uh, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal?” Keith said, his tone shining a light on his confusion.

“Nonsense. Every sale you make helps bring this company out of the gutter. No offense, Allura,” Hunk said.

“None taken.”

Pidge took it upon herself to single-handedly make plans for the group to honor the sale. “I’m assuming none of you losers have plans tonight, I sure as hell don’t, so why don’t we spin to wheel to celebrate?”

Against the laws of everything Keith thought possible, Allura brightened even more and nodded so quickly he was afraid she break her neck.

The wheel was Hunk’s brainchild of November of last year. He was sick of nothing getting done around the office when their maintenance worker took a week off with no warning or replacement queued up. In turn, Hunk had decided to build a wheel of chores to ensure that shit got done around the office. It was unsuccessful, seeing as everyone would rather die that clean that kitchen themselves.

After her fourth time being assigned to floor duty, Pidge snuck back into the office one night after everyone left, and stole the chore wheel. She spent a questionable number of hours remaking the wheel, and the next day she came into work early with the new and improved “Group Activity Wheel.”

Hunk was heartbroken, but accepted its fate; Keith was indifferent, as usual; and Lance disapproved of Pidge giving it such a shitty name.

Hunk brought out the “Group Activity Wheel” now, and Pidge hopped onto the reception desk, ready to spin it, and to be honest, Keith was afraid. Pidge had a tendency to spin the wheel again and again until it landed on what she wanted to do, and her favorites could be troubling, especially on a Monday night, such as “Get Shitfaced” and “Break into NASA.”

Today, much to his relief, when Pidge spun the wheel, she kept it where it was.

Allura was excited, and it showed in her voice. “Alright, everyone! It’s settled. Tonight, we have a game night!”

Hunk groaned. “That means we have to host, right?”

“Aww, come on, Hunk, you know we’re happy to have any of these nerds come over anytime,” Lance said. He and Hunk met and became best friends in college when they were assigned to be roommates, and they decided to keep living together. In fact, Lance constantly referenced a pact that he and Hunk had, stating that “We’d only stop living together if one of us drops dead or finds love.”

“Lance, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. I need to go grocery shopping,” Hunk complained.

That got Pidge interested. “Holy fuck, for the love of god, someone let Hunk off work early to go shopping. We cannot, I repeat, cannot miss out on his cooking.”

Though Keith had only had the privilege of having Hunk’s food a couple times, he knew that Pidge was right.

Shiro conceded, saying, “Ok, Hunk, you get the hell out of here, the rest of us will leave at five, as planned, and we will meet at Lance and Hunk’s apartment at six. Everyone good?”

They all nodded, including Hunk, who was already putting his coat on. 

“Meeting adjourned,” Lance concluded.

Keith turned and stalked back towards his desk, mentally preparing himself for the events to follow. He had only attended one game night in the past but knew just how bad it could be. He and Lance were competitive as always, Pidge very rarely lost, Hunk just wanted out of the line of fire, Allura was just happy to hang out, and Shiro tried to control them. Nothing was more stressful than game night.

\----------

Time found Keith at his apartment, freshly showered and standing in front of his bed, staring down at his outfit options. He felt like a teenage girl, stressing out about what to wear to see his friends (and crush), but that wasn’t enough to stop him.

Stuck between a red t-shirt and black “I am not bound to please thee with my answers” Shakespeare shirt, he ultimately decided to flip a coin: heads for red, tails for black.

When the coin landed on heads, Keith, being the biased piece of shit that he is, flipped the coin again and again until it landed on tails, his secret choice. 

He threw it on along with Vans, and ventured into his small kitchen, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram, liking a couple of his friends’ photos and some assorted memes that had found their way onto his feed (not that he was complaining).

It was when Keith reached for a glass to get water that he realized he was probably obligated to bring something. That’s what people did when they were invited places, right?

After digging through his kitchen for far longer than was socially acceptable, he stumbled upon a (slightly) squished pack of some Hostess snack in the far corner of an overhead cabinet. Figuring that this was good enough, Keith grabbed it and his phone and keys and nearly sprinted out the door.

\----------

“Keith… what the fuck?” Pidge asked, holding up a half a Sno Ball. The group had unanimously voted to snack a little before dinner.

“Huh?”

“These taste like shit,” Allura said, because good friends are honest. “How old are they?”

“A couple months… I think.”

Pidge sighed loudly.

“I thought they never expired!” Keith defended.

Lance turned to Shiro, saying, “How is he an adult?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Hunk chimed in, “Keith, pal, those are Twinkies.”

“What?”

“Twinkies don’t expire,” Lance clarified.

Pidge adjusted her glasses and said, “Actually, that’s just another unfounded myth popularized by some dumb members of society.”

Lance groaned and said, “Whatever, Pidge,” and with that, the group threw out the remaining “Twinkies” and returned to their game of Monopoly. Pidge currently held three of the eight possible monopolies, as well as three of the railroads (“Goddammit, why can’t I just fucking land on Reading?”), and they were only a half an hour in. Hunk had all of the yellow properties and easily the most money. Shiro owned only the Electric Company and the Waterworks, and oddly enough, he was happy with this. Evidently, he swore by them; Keith deemed them bullshit. Lance had only managed to collect two of the light blue and one of the dark blue properties and was desperate to trade with Allura, who owned those missing pieces, in addition to the pink properties. And as for Keith, well, he didn’t want to talk about it. At every possible opportunity, he had to pay either tax or rent. He owned only Indiana Avenue and had the least money. Monopoly never failed to depress him and was very close to declaring bankruptcy, but Lance managed to convince him otherwise before his next turn. 

“I declare-”

“Nope. No, you - No, no, no. No, you don't. I’m saving you here. Do not declare bankruptcy. We’ve got like another solid hour of gameplay left, and you are going to be a part of it.”

Keith conceded, blushing, and rolled the dice. He just barely managed to pass go but was able to make it another turn, with his thimble landing on the one railroad that Pidge had not yet managed to acquire.

“See, I told you it would be worth it, Mullet,” Lance said, grinning. To his left, Pidge shoved her face into a throw pillow and screamed as Keith traded his recently acquired 200 fake dollars for the card.

The rest of the game proceeded nothing like this, as Keith very quickly lost the rest of his money and gave the railroad to Pidge and declared bankruptcy, against Lance’s better judgment, who was curling in on himself next to Keith. He had landed on Pidge’s properties many times before and was deeply afraid of landing on them once again with the rent increase from houses.

Hunk had retired from the game long before and left his properties to Lance, as he needed to check on dinner. Lance also traded his light blue properties for the Boardwalk with Allura, and they were both losing to Pidge. Keith scoffed every time Shiro bragged about his companies and watched him slowly lose out of the corner of his eye.

It was at this moment that Hunk called from the other room, announcing that their dinner was prepared, and, sure enough, it smelled heavenly. The group piled into the kitchen, Shiro happy to make plates. Lance prided himself to be a bit of a bartender and was making whatever simple drinks he could with what was at the apartment. They ate in the main room, all piled on the couch, avoiding the Monopoly board laid out on the coffee table in front of them. Hunk took the liberty to open Netflix and put on a show called "Voltron." Keith supposed it was alright.

After a couple episodes, Pidge was ready to taste victory, and urged them all back to the game. Hunk was happy to team up with Pidge, and Keith believed that it wasn’t just to say he had won. Much to Keith’s delight, he teamed up with Lance to manage his remaining properties. Seeing as they had become slightly buzzed, they made some very poor decisions.

“Alright, Lancelot,” Keith giggled, “you should totally trade that shit,” referencing, of course, his only reliable source of income, the dark blue properties. Lance burst out laughing, nodding like that was the single greatest statement that he had ever heard. If possible, Pidge was even happier, as she was now a clear winner of the game. 

She jumped up (rather drunkenly), and took a victory lap around the room, collapsing and giggling, which was rare for Pidge. Being the winner, she got to pick their next game, Trivial Pursuit. Naturally, she wanted to play on the PlayStation, as many of the questions from their original 1979 board game were before their time. Two people had to sit out, and Shiro and Keith volunteered. Keith was content to sit back on the couch and watch the games unfold, but Lance reeled him back in and asked to team up again. Normally, he would turn down any such offer, but 1. this was Lance, and 2. he was slightly drunk and 3. he had a crush on Lance.

Teaming up in Trivial Pursuit was not exactly smart, as whispering answers in front of the other players and sharing (read: fighting over) one controller. Keith moved to sit even closer to his teammate and the games commenced. 

“What the fuck, Pidge?” Lance shouted as she got yet another question right.

She merely laughed and proceeded to gain yet another wedge, with Hunk following close behind.

“‘What kind of creature is Wellington?’” Allura asked, reading the question out loud. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Silence, ‘Lura, clearly everyone knows this!” Hunk said. Lance laughed borderline obnoxiously loudly at that, likely due to the drinks. Keith found that he didn’t mind.

Keith and Lance, as it turned out, were not great at random trivia, but each excelled in random categories: Lance in geography, and Keith in history. Despite ultimately coming last after Allura, Hunk, and Pidge, Keith had had a fuckton of fun.

After a couple more Trivial Pursuit games, Hunk and Pidge passed out next to each other on the worn couch, with Shiro following soon after. Allura tiptoed out of the apartment to go to her own a few floors up, waving to Keith and Lance on the way out. Lance held his finger in front of his mouth before adjusting Hunk so that he wouldn’t fuck up his neck. He carried Pidge (bless her 4’10” self) into Hunk’s room, and brought a blanket back for him. He then gestured to Keith, who had been watching him and smiling softly. Keith took the hint, got up, and followed Lance down the adjacent hallway. 

“I’m assuming you’re staying her for the night, seeing as you’re lowkey shitfaced,” Lance whispered. 

“I mean, I guess, yeah,” Keith said. 

“Ok you take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you take your own bed. I don’t live here, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Exactly! You’re the guest, you get the bed.”

At some point, their voices had grown a bit louder, as they heard Hunk stir down the hallway. They froze and promptly started whispering again.

“Just take the fucking bed, Lance.”

“Fine,” Keith sighed in relief, “but you’re taking it with me.”

Keith could see him blushing, and was not sure if it was the alcohol or the offer. He felt his own face heat up in response.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The two stood in an awkward state of limbo, but Lance turned and grabbed his pajamas, pointing at the doorway as an explanation for leaving. Keith shakily nodded, sat on the edge of the bed, and waited.

At first glance, Lance’s room was messy, but upon further examination, Keith could see the quiet organization behind the clutter. A NASA poster and a Voltron poster lie amongst photos with family and friends. Stacks of comic books and astronomy books covered the desk, and numerous blue and black sweatshirts hung from the hooks on the back of the door.  
Keith loved it. 

Moments later, Lance returned, and it was then that Keith noticed that he had a quite intense skincare routine, and Keith would the first to admit that it worked. Very well.

“Are you really going to sleep in that?” Keith jolted in response to Lance’s question, taking a minute to actually comprehend it. 

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly bring pajamas.”

“Nonsense, just borrow something.”

“You sure?”

“Yup. Now get out,” Lance smirked, shoving a t-shirt and sweatpants into Keith’s hands, and shoving him out the room.

Keith found the bathroom easily enough, changed, and took a moment to splash warm water on his face. He leaned on the sink, feeling slightly soberer and stared at his reflection. He would totally be able to handle sleeping in the same bed as Lance, and totally would not give away any damning feelings.

He stalked back to Lance’s bedroom and crawled under the dark blue comforter beside him.

Lance turned over and whispered to Keith, “Goodnight.”

Keith found himself looking back into Lance’s eyes, happy to say it back.

“Goodnight, Lance,” and with that, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me. I only just started writing again so wish me luck


	3. of group chats and company lunches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk creates a group chat and adds the group from the office. With everyone hungover and tired after game night, and with a company lunch eating up their time, no work gets done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess it's just a given that i update every six months. i need to get off my ass and write

The following morning was not the most awkward one of Keith’s life; that had to be passing out in the bathtub at a stranger’s house following a party, waking up, eating their frozen waffles (still frozen, of course), and leaving at 6 a.m.

He didn’t like to talk about that morning.

So, comparatively, waking up next to Lance after drunkenly playing board games the night before was not that bad, especially because Lance is the god of breakfast food. In fact, he had woken up to the smell of bacon and the rather distinctive scent of everything bagels, which he happened to love. In passing, Keith wondered if he had ever mentioned that to Lance.

Keith rolled over and stood up, still wearing (Lance’s!) pajamas. He found Lance in the apartment’s small kitchen, humming along to a pop song Keith didn’t know. 

“Morning,” he said, hoping that he didn’t scare Lance. He had.

“Fuck, Keith. You scared me a bit there,” Lance replied.

“A bit?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“You jumped like five feet just then.”

“I wish, then I’d have five and a half feet on you.”

“Shut the fuck up, you are like two inches taller than me.”

“Alright, midget.”

“I am not a midget!” Keith said, indignant.

At some point during this exchange, Pidge and Hunk had entered the kitchen, grumbling and complaining about the noise; Pidge rubbed her eyes and told them to be quiet. A hungover Pidge was a scary Pidge, so they obliged.

The group gathered around the coffee table to eat their breakfast. Keith soon learned that everyone fully intended to go into work late that day.

“Are we allowed to do that?” he asked.

Pidge replied around a mouth full of bagel. “Do what?”

“Show up late because of game night.”

Lance shrugged. “Allura and Shiro are probably in the same boat, and we’ve done it before, so…”

“Given, the last time we did this, we did have to stay late,” Hunk said.

“And that’s worth it?” Keith was skeptical.

“Hell yes,” Lance said. “Do you really want to do work right now?”

Keith considered this and decided that no, he most definitely did not want to do work right now.

“No,” he said.

Pidge laughed. “Good, because it’s ten.”

“It’s ten already?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, man. You didn’t notice because you were bantering with Keith,” Hunk smirked, Lance turned red, and Keith felt like he was missing something.

\----------

Pidge dug into her supply of clothes left and the apartment specifically for situations like this, so she and Hunk had left and headed to the office by 10:45.

Lance, however, took his sweet time getting ready as Keith sipped coffee in the kitchen, having already changed into his outfit from last night. When Lance returned, dressed for work, Keith had realized that he did not have even semi-business casual clothing. When he brought this concern to Lance, he simply shrugged it off and said that they could, quote, “swing by his apartment” so he could “get the fuck ready.” Keith accepted and directed Lance to his apartment complex, an Avril Lavigne CD playing at low volume providing background music to the drive.

Keith, emerging from his apartment wearing a collared shirt and arguably ready for work, climbed back into the passenger side, and the pair set off driving.

\----------

[hunk added pidgeotto, lanceylance, kkogane, spacedad, princess, coranthegorgeousman to a chat]

[chat opened 11:47 a.m.]

hunk: where the hell are you guys

pidgeotto: we leave a little earlier than you guys and suddenly you can’t be bothered to show up

lanceylance: we’re on our way scrubs

kkogane: lance made me text that and i feel unclean

hunk: it happens

princess: you guys are late

kkogane: yup. lance’s fault

pidgeotto: that’s low keith. striking when he can’t defend himself

kkogane: he’ll survive

spacedad: good. the company lunch is today

pidgeotto: fuck i was told this was a one-branch thing

princess: you were lied to

pidgeotto: well shit

pidgeotto: fuck you shiro

spacedad: i did what had to be done

\----------

Keith turned to Lance. “Is this just something I’m going to have to live with now?”

“What, the group chat?” Lance grinned, bright eyes still on the road, “Yeah. I know you love it, mullet.”

Keith smiled and looked out the window, “Whatever you say, asshole.”

\----------

Immediately upon their admittedly late arrival to the office, Keith and Lance were shuffled back outside and into Coran’s minivan. The soundtrack of this trip, you ask? Pidge and Lance’s complaints.

“I just don’t see how it’s productive to shove every employee of a company into the back room of a restaurant together,” Pidge whined, thumping her head against the back of Keith’s seat.

“And I don’t see why we couldn’t reschedule this for a day not following game night,” Lance complained to Keith’s left. “I would be perfectly happy to do this on any other day.”

Allura sighed. “This has been scheduled for weeks, guys. I’m sorry, but we can’t change it now.”

The duo groaned. Hunk asked why Allura didn’t warn them before game night commenced.

“Everyone was very happy, feeling the adrenaline, et cetera, et cetera, and I forgot,” she said, “Though, in my defense, Shiro did not help.”

Shiro slid down lower in his seat.

“Where is this lunch anyway?” Keith asked, ignoring Allura’s excuse.

“Some swanky place in Philly, I bet,” Pidge said.

“Actually, yes,” Coran piped up from the driver’s seat. “Olkarion. It’s one of my favorites.” 

“Philly is like two hours away,” Lance grumbled. “It had better be good.”

\----------

It was very good.

The group had arrived, much to Lance’s chagrin, two and a half hours later (the traffic was disgusting). They met up with the two other branches of the company, just as Pidge had suggested, in the back room. Keith sat between Lance and Hunk, thankfully not needing to speak to anyone else. Pidge drank wine the entire lunch, and a tipsy Pidge was a hilarious Pidge. Shiro and Allura conversed like the execs they were at the head of the table, while Hunk talked with a receptionist from Utica and two accountants from corporate to his left.

“I’m just saying, if you shower at night, you just go to sleep and sweat for eight hours, and you lay there, and you wallow in it,” Lance stated.

“But, you’ve just showered. It’s clean sweat,” Pidge argued.

Keith decided to get involved, “Sweat is a waste product. It is, by definition, not clean.”

“Stuff it, Kogane. I have more evidence,” Pidge said. “I don’t wake up early to shower. Plenty of sleep on my end,” she smiled smugly.

This drew Lance back into the debate. “Please, I’ve never seen a person get less sleep than you, except maybe Zombie Boy here,” he slung his arm around Keith and tugged him a bit closer, and Keith flushed bright red at the contact. “And, I don’t wake up early specifically to shower. I wake up early to exfoliate. And moisturize.” 

“So that’s why you’re always late to work,” Keith smirked.

Lance scoffed. “Shut the fuck up and settle this, mullet. Morning or night showers?”

“I don’t fucking know. I shower when I need to.”

“God, you’re gross. You’re a gross human and I don’t know why I’m friends with you,” Lance replied.  
Pidge involved herself. “You know why you’re friends with him.”

“Shush, Pidgey. I love his dazzling personality.”

“Thank you?”

“No question there. That was a compliment, mullet, so take it.”

“Thank you.”

“There we go.” 

Pidge chuckled, Lance smiled, and Keith became hyper-aware of the arm still around him.

\----------

The drive back to the office was relatively uneventful. Shiro and Allura were talking logistics, Pidge and Hunk were passed out, and Coran was driving quietly. Keith listened to Lance animatedly tell a story about one of his brothers accidentally stealing a rental umbrella from the beach.

“See, Marco had shown up late because he flew in after his last final, and thought we brought our own umbrella. To be fair, they looked very similar, and he was away when it broke, so he just loaded it into the car and we drove off without noticing. I guess it’s kind of on us too for not realizing, but the staff members were on their phones so it’s really on them.”

Keith didn’t once look away while he talked, watching Lance’s hands wave around as he spoke, hanging on to his every word. Call him desperate if you want, he’d consider the label accurate. 

Crushing on Lance was the easiest part of his job, and he was happy to do it. Lance made it simple, with the way he befriended everyone he met, the way he was kind but strong, the way he’d welcomed Keith, and the way he was intelligent but hid it, and the way he cared so deeply for his friends and family. It was really quite easy.

\----------

[chat opened 6:33 p.m.]

lanceylance: allura, we should have company lunches far more often

princess: why, so you can flirt?

lanceylance: shut the fuck up

lanceylance: we did literally no work today. It was fantastic

hunk: that’s mostly because we showed up late

pidgeotto: and you don’t do much work anyway

lanceylance: i didn’t open this hell chat to be attacked

kkogane: lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been listening to wetsuit by the vaccines and crying over voltron a lot lately


	4. of cpr training and new hires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coran leads the office in a CPR training initiative during which Lance sings and Keith is weak. Upon Allura hiring a new salesman, Keith and Shiro have a bro talk about their crushes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how to do italics on the website and i'm too tired to learn how so just try to ignore the apostrophes around song titles whoops

[chat opened 2:04 a.m.]

lanceylance: are you guys excited for work tomorrow

pidgeotto: what the fuck are you on

lanceylance: whatever do you mean

pidgeotto: it’s 2 fucking am

pidgeotto: and i’m tired

lanceylance: you didn’t need to respond

lanceylance: what’s keeping pidgey up?

pidgeotto: shut the fuck up

hunk: we’re not going to get anything done tomorrow if two members of our tiny office are exhausted

lanceylance: you’re up too, bro

hunk: you got me there

princess: go to sleep, you piece of shit employees

lanceylance: hi ‘lura

princess: goodnight lance

kkogane: shut the fuck up

kkogane: i’m so close to silencing this godforsaken chat

pidgeotto: do it, coward

kkogane: fuck you guys

lanceylance: that’s not nice mullet

kkogane: fuck you lance

lanceylance: goodnight to you too keithy

\----------

“Morning, Kogane,” Lance chirped somewhere to his right. Keith jolted up, having been almost-asleep-but-not-quite.

“Hey, Lance,” he replied.

“I felt kind of bad for keeping you up last night, so I brought you coffee. Black, like your soul,”  
Lance said. Keith turned toward him, confused. Lance held the cup out, shaking it a bit. The tiny thought version of Keith told him that taking the cup was a great idea, so big human Keith did it, smiling.

“Thanks, dumbass. You didn’t need to do that.”

“I felt like it,” Lance replied, leaning against Keith’s desk. “Besides, I think you’re going to need it today.”

“What’s today?”

At that moment, Shiro left his office and made to make an announcement. Coran emerged from the annex and joined him in the front next to reception.

“As some of you may know, today is a company-wide CPR training day. Allura decided that we could all use some first aid training,” Shiro explained.

Pidge sat up under her desk and yelped as she hit her head on the top. “The fuck? Are we getting certified or something?”

“Not necessarily, but you will know what you’re doing in the event that someone requires CPR,” Coran chimed in.

Keith groaned. “God help me if I am the only person in a room who can perform CPR.”

“Come on, guys, this could be good,” Hunk said, smiling. “We’ll learn a lot and we’ll be able to potentially save someone’s life if the need arises.”

Shiro was pleased with this response. “Great attitude, Hunk.”

“Hunk, you are too good for this Earth and we don’t deserve you,” Lance sighed.

“Love you too, bro.”

Keith let his head slump back down against his keyboard, barely hearing Shiro’s muffled “Conference room, ten minutes”. A weight was taken off his desk as someone he could only assume was Lance patted his shoulder before departing. 

“Someone’s exhausted today. And I think it’s someone else’s fault.”

“Pipe down, Pidgey. I bought him coffee.”

“You brought Keith coffee and nobody else? I’m unfriending you, man,” Hunk said.

Lance pouted, and it was evident in his voice. “Eight years. We’ve been friends for eight years and this is how you treat me?” he said, indignant. Keith couldn’t help but laugh at his tone. Lance sputtered a bit but soon starting laughing himself. Soon enough, Pidge and Hunk joined in and Keith finally looked up. His eyes easily found his deskmate, as Lance was already looking his way. They held eye contact for a moment, Lance smiling and Keith following suit. The latter broke away first, blushing furiously.

Keith blinked several times, almost aggressively, looking down towards the office’s ugly carpeting. Recovering (minimally), he glanced back up to see Hunk wink at Lance, who was covering his mouth and shaking his head. 

Keith thought it was strange, but cast the thought aside in favor of the CPR training that was commencing in the small conference room. He followed Lance inside, the pair sitting next to each other in chairs that lined the wall, their usual seating arrangement. Coran shuffled in last, dragging a human dummy lacking arms and legs behind him. 

Once Coran was settled up front and the other employees were sitting down, Lance raised his hand above his head briefly before speaking.

“Will we be reviewing the CPR songs?” Lance questioned.

Coran seemed delighted by the question. “Yes, we will, my boy. Now, what’s the first thing you should do in the event you have to perform CPR?”

Hunk guessed while Pidge yawned next to him. “See if they’re breathing?”

“Close enough! Also, check if the environment is safe. And call 911. And check for a pulse.”

Now Keith raised his hand. “You want us to do all of these things first?”

“Yes. Pay attention. Now does anyone know the rate at which you should perform compressions?”

“100 beats per minute,” Shiro said.

“Yes!” Coran was ecstatic. Keith didn’t understand why, this was an office CPR training crash course, but everyone has their passions. “My personal favorite song to hum is ‘Stayin’ Alive’ by the Bee Gees,” Lance fist pumped the air, “but you could also do ‘Work It,’ ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun,’ or ‘Another One Bites the Dust.” Keith snorted upon hearing Coran’s final suggestion.

“Now who wants to go first?”

Lance shot up out of his seat and joined Coran next to the dummy. “So, what song are we doing?”

Coran stared at him. “You know this isn’t karaoke, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I was thinking we go for ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun,’ but the general public can decide,” he added, glancing at Keith.

Keith noticed the aforementioned glance and chimed in. “Do ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’ I’m a fan of the irony.”

Lance smirked and nodded. “I can get behind that.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Coran cheered.

“You just told me this wasn’t a show.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly. I said this wasn’t karaoke.” Lance scoffed. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

Lance grumbled his assent and Pidge began drumming the beginning to the iconic Queen song Keith selected. Upon picking up the beat, Lance begins so admittedly inconsistent chest compressions on the dummy Coran provided. He hummed along as Coran told him that they were far too shallow, that he was probably killing a person, and nodded his head to the beat. Once Coran - in Lance’s words - “finally backed off” and he was doing decent compressions, Lance began singing. Keith, in hindsight, should have expected this, Lance was always singing at his desk, hell, he had probably volunteered to go first specifically for this purpose. Yet, Lance’s voice still took him by surprise. It was soft but had a passion, a fire, to it. Maybe it was because it was acapella, so Keith had nothing to distract him. Whatever the reason, Keith felt himself fall a little deeper.

“Another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust!”

“Uh, Lance, you should probably stop, um, performing. A man is dying in front of you,’ Hunk said.

“It’s not a real man. Besides, singing really takes the pressure off when you’re saving a person’s life. You should try it,” Lance replied. To Shiro’s chagrin, Hunk appeared to be considering his proposal. Pidge grinned next to Hunk and elbowed him.

“Fine.” 

“I’ll join, too!” Pidge added.

Shiro buried his face in his hands. “God help me.” Nearby, Coran just looked puzzled. Keith was amused, but concerned. In the event that one of them actually needed to perform CPR, the person (patient? victim? Keith wasn’t sure) would be fucked. He decided to overlook that.

Hunk’s and Pidge’s voices joined Lance’s when the chorus came around. Even Coran joined. Keith could swear he heard Shiro’s voice in there somewhere, but when he looked at his brother, Shiro looked away, mouth firmly closed. Keith resigned himself to humming along and tapping his foot on the ground in sync with Lance’s-no-longer-shitty chest compressions, and the smile he received in return was well worth it.

When Lance and company reached the end of the song Coran stepped forward. “As lovely as that was, you killed a man today.”

“What?” Lance screeched indignantly.

Pidge thought it appropriate to add her input. “No one called the paramedics. You can’t just do chest compressions forever.” At that, Keith nodded thoughtfully.

Lance groaned. “Shit,” he said, drawing out the “i”.

“This has been delightful and an excellent showcase of why we need training like this in the company. However, I must be heading out,” Allura said, waving as she walked through the doorway, not waiting for a response.

“I wonder what she’s up to,” Hunk mused aloud. 

“No doubt some bigshot corporate business,” Lance said.

“We’d all like to know, but we should focus on our safety training,” Shiro stated, the other employees groaning.

“Alright, dad.”

\----------

Keith peered over his glasses at his too-bright computer screen, typing figures into a spreadsheet. He liked this kind of work; it was methodical and slow, a good way to relax. He knew he was fiery and high-strung, almost to a fault, and work like this helped him, at least a little bit. Next to him, Lance had the opposite opinion.

“This is the worst. Keith, I’m bored,” he complained, loud as ever.

“You must be if you.re not even using one of your shitty nicknames,” Keith replied.

“Entertain me.”

Keith looked up from his monitor. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

“We can play paper football.”

“We can do our work. That’s fun.”

“Keithy,” Lance whined.

Keith sighed and looked away briefly. “Fine.” He saved and closed the tab and followed Lance to the break room. When they passed through the kitchen, Shiro stopped them.

“What are you doing?”

Lance glanced back at Keith, looking more than a little panicked. “Playing paper football.” Lance grew up knowing the truth was always the best option, and he figured Shiro couldn’t fire him over this.

“Proceed,” Shiro said, sipping his coffee. Lance was baffled, but Keith knew why he let the duo go, especially given the smirk wink he got as he passed by. Keith blushed and flipped him off. Shiro deserved it for being such a little shit and mocking him.

Keith and Lance settled on opposite ends of a table in the break room, Lance grabbing a packet of Splenda before sitting down. Keith eyed it suspiciously. “I thought we were playing paper football.”

“I forgot the paper and I can’t be bothered to go back to my desk, so now we’re using Splenda,” Lance answered.

Keith shrugged. “Alright.”

After forty-five minutes, the game was tied, twelve to twelve. 

“Stop trying so hard, mullet. You’ll get wrinkles,” Lance smirked.

“Shut the fuck up. Maybe if you focused more you could win.”

Lance was quick to retort. “Bup, bup, bup. Either of us could win. We’re tied.”

“Whatever, smartass.”

Lanc winked at him from across the table. Keith lost.

\----------

[chat opened 7:22 p.m.]

princess: i have a surprise for you guys tomorrow

pidgeotto: o shit

\----------

The next morning found Keith ten minutes late for work, Hunk’s homemade cookies at reception, Pidge asleep at her desk, and Lance in the kitchen. Keith took his jacket off, hung it on the rack, and grabbed a cookie, thanking Hunk. It took an hour for him to finish inserting his numbers into the abandoned spreadsheet. At some point over the course of this hour, Lance had sat at his own desk, as he was working when Keith glanced up. Lance grinned at him, but his expression was quickly replaced with confusion as his eyes shifted from Keith’s face to the door behind him. Keith turned around to see Allura and a man he’d never seen before. 

“Hell, everyone,” she began. Pidge woke up and Shiro emerged from his office. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I had left so abruptly yesterday. I’ll have you know, it was for a good reason. This is Adam,” she gestured towards the man, “and he’s starting with us today as a salesman! As you know, we only have two salesmen right now, which is not the best way to turn a profit.”

“Holy shit,” Shiro muttered. He was noticeably red. Keith snorted and heard Lance giggle next to him. They exchanged knowing looks as Allura introduced them.

“Pidge Holt is our accountant, a genius really. Hunk Garrett is our lovely, lovely receptionist. Keith Kogane and Lance McClain are our contrasting yet complementary salesmen.” Keith raised his hand as his hand was called. Allura continued, “And this is Takashi Shirogane, our branch manager. He’s an excellent leader.”

Shiro stepped forward to greet Adam’s, wiping his right hand on his pants before shaking Adam’s. “Shiro’s fine. That’s what everyone here calls me,” he said, finally letting go.

“Nice to meet you, Shiro,” Adam said, smiling softly. He raised his hand in farewell as Allura led him to his desk.

Keith and Lance silently mocked Shiro, instant-messaging each other on their work computers before being interrupted by Shiro.

“Keith, can I talk to you for a minute?” His voice cracked a little.

“Uh, sure,” Keith answered, sending an amused look back to Lance. He followed Shiro into his office and sat in the simple office chair opposite Shiro’s.

“I have a problem, Shiro began.

“Yeah, no kidding. You were a fucking mess out there,” Keith chuckled at his brother’s expense.

Shiro buried his hand on his desk. “That’s not even the worst part! He’s the coffee shop guy!”

Keith was genuinely laughing now. “Let me get this straight,” he said between wheezes, “Adam, our new salesman, is the reason you frequented a coffee shop you don’t even like? You saw a cute guy there once and kept going back? And the guy was Adam? Holy shit!”

Shiro looked over Keith’s shoulder and saw Lance glancing in through the windows of his office. “Keep it down!”

Keith hiccupped again. “Sorry, but you can’t really blame me, can you?”

“No, I can’t. After all, if it was you and Lance, I would tease you, too.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Come on, Keith. You should make a move.”

I will most definitely not,” Keith asserted. “He doesn’t like me like that.”

Shiro sighed. “Keith, you sound like a fifth-grade girl.” Keith glared at him. “What? It’s true! Besides, I think you should give it a shot. You two are always joking around and hanging out. He makes you happy, right?” Shiro encouraged.

“Yeah, of course he does. But, Shiro, I’m a handful. You know that better than anyone. Why would he want to deal with me?” Keith said, dejected.

“He really cares about you, Keith, whether you see it or not. Give him some credit.”

“Alright. Thanks, Shiro,” Keith said. “Now, can we talk about you and Adam more?”

“I hate you.”

“So I was originally thinking your name should be Shadam, but Lance made an excellent case for Adashi, so I think I’m going to have to go with him.”

“Shut up. No. And you were talking to Lance about this?”

“Well, we were IM’ing, but yes. And literally everyone noticed your fumbling. You’re too obvious, bro.”

Shiro got up. “Great talk. I think you should be going back to you and Lance’s desk clump now, where you can flirt and I will not have to hear any of your bullshit.”

Keith chuckled again and left, joking over his shoulder, “I think you’re going to need to see a specialist about that. I could do some research and find one if you want!”

“I hate you. You’re not allowed back for Christmas,” Shiro warned from inside his office before closing the door. Keith knew he accomplished his goal of embarrassing Shiro.

Adam leaned towards Lance. “So, uh, what’s their deal?”

“Adoptive siblings. They’re really important to each other but they can drive each other up the wall, just like any good sibling should,” Adam laughed at that and settled back at his desk. Lance smiled and looked back over to where Keith was still laughing. It had taken him a while to see him like this, but Keith seemed very happy lately. Consequently, Lance was much more eager to head into work. 

At 4:55, everyone began gathering their stuff. Pidge was the first out the door, with everyone save for Keith and Lance close behind her. Keith took special note of Shiro and Adam walking together and talking, then continued working.

“So, mullet, you planning on leaving anytime soon?” Keith jumped, the sound of Lance’s voice scaring him. Lance laughed. “Sorry about that. But, uh, seriously, it’s 5:15. Why are you still here?”

“I have to finish a rundown I didn’t have time to do because Shiro dragged me into his office,” Keith explained.

“Ah, right. What was that about?”

Keith blushed and ducked his head, just in time for Lance to not see. “He talked to me about Adam. Shiro went to the same coffee shop every day for weeks because he saw a mystery guy there once and thought he was cute. The mystery guy was Adam.”

“No way! Holy shit!” 

“But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Who else would I have heard that from?” Lance smirked, questioning him.

“Fuck knows. Shut up,” Keith replied.

“Whatever you say, mullet. Now, come on. You can finish that tomorrow. I’ll walk you down to your death machine,” Lance offered.

Keith rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion from the day. “Alright. I just need to grab my coat.”

“Of course, of course.”

Keith pulled on his coat, trying to calm his thoughts, which largely (read: entirely) consisted of him freaking the fuck out about Lance walking him to his motorcycle. Which reminds him,

“It’s not a death machine, asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho ho adam is a thing. i wanted to get this out before s7 so go me. also, i added a total chapter number because i'm planning 10 chapters, but fuck knows how that will end up
> 
> another one bites the dust was definitely in my playlist for writing this chapter

**Author's Note:**

> oof i love me some klance


End file.
